


We'll keep on smiling

by Tikini



Series: Four men and a Rock and Roll band [14]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Brief Mention of Violence, Brief mention of sexual assault, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress, So much talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikini/pseuds/Tikini
Summary: Roger took a deep breath, clutching the bottle to his chest. “We need to talk.”The other three stared at him silently for a moment before John spoke up again. “Are you breaking up with us Rog?” The younger man joked, but there was real worry lurking behind the pretty green of his eyes.“Yes.” Roger deadpanned. “Therefore I come bearing farewell gifts.” He snorted. “Of course not. But we need to talk.”Brian looked exhausted, head hanging as he watched Roger wearily. “About what?”“Everything that’s happened the last couple of weeks.” Roger answered, sounding more confident than what he felt. “All the shitty stuff.”----Or; Roger's had enough, Brian needs to sleep, Freddie finally gets laid and John works on equality





	We'll keep on smiling

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies!¨
> 
> I had such a good vacation, living life almost decadently with sun, sea, ice cream and drinks! Now I'm back in my hectic life though, and this story has been a bitch to write, because SO MUCH TALKING. God, I'm sorry, I hope you can get through it all xD. Anyhow, this is the last part of this angst train I've been on for awhile. From now on there will be fluff and smut again! (lol more smut ofc, who am I trying to kid). But since it's a series, this will be a part of the boys lives from now on, so it won't be forgotten.
> 
> I've realized, from some of you, that the order of my fics is a mess. This is the general timeline of the fics;
> 
> **A study in firsts (part 8)**  
>  PreFour, four snippets from different years
> 
> **Four (part 3)**  
>  Summer 1973
> 
> **In sickness and in health, times three (part 5)**  
>  Early autumn 1973
> 
> **I get religion quick, ‘cause you’re looking divine (part 6)**  
>  Early autumn 1973
> 
> **In the Shadow of Peacocks (part 7)**  
>  Late autumn 1973
> 
> **Feverishly hot (and angry) blonde (part 9)**  
>  Winter 1973
> 
> **Too much of a good thing can be wonderful (part 10)**  
>  Spring 1974
> 
> **A study in Jealousy (part 1)**  
>  Summer 1974
> 
> **Drama at midnight (part 2)**  
>  Summer 1974, connected to A study in Jealousy
> 
> **Get on your knees and let the games begin (part 11)**  
>  Early autumn 1974
> 
> **Fading rhythm (part 12)**  
>  Early autumn 1974
> 
> **Erosion (part 13)**  
>  Early autumn 1974, connected to Fading rhythm, takes place around 2 weeks after
> 
> **We'll keep on smiling (part 14)**  
>  Early autumn 1974, connected to Fading rhythm and Erosion, takes place around a week after Erosion
> 
> **King of the ‘sleaze’ (part 4)**  
>  Summer 1975
> 
>  
> 
> I hope that cleared things up a bit! I hope you enjoy this, even if there's so much talking. At least there's a tiny bit of smut too, yay! Title taken from the Queen song Innuendo

This was it. No more. The world could just start to fuck the fuck off, because Roger was not having this anymore.

He’d slowly, so slowly, started to feel like himself again. He’d acted like himself for the better part of the last weeks, but that was just that, an act. He wanted to show that he didn’t need the pity, the sad soulful eyes, the carefully spoken words. He just wanted to be treated as always. Not be reminded that he was a _victim_ with his boyfriends’ every action.

Of course, it was hard for people to treat him like always when his body suddenly was that of a terrified, virginal choir girl. It was the most frustrating thing in the world, to want his boyfriends to touch him, to want to touch them, but then when he or they tried his body just shut down, screamed at him to stop, to run, to get away. Even if he knew that he didn’t need to run. Even if he just a week before the alley major fuckup had been fine with being tied down and fucked for hours.

He’d fought these annoying impulses with his entire being, and he had gotten a lot better. Like, he had no idea how he’d react if one of his boyfriends god forbid whipped out their dick suddenly, but at least he was fine and comfortable with light cuddling. Hurrah.

The worst part wasn’t even the temporary complete shutdown of his own sexuality, it was the way it hurt his loved ones. In the beginning, when he’d recoil from contact, his boyfriends’ looked as if he’d ripped their hearts out and then stomped on them. And they understood, of course they did, he was a _victim_ after all. But it still hurt them. He hurt them. Even if he really didn’t want to.

He’d made a lot of progress, John too, the day the magazine was released. Roger wasn’t sure why, but it just… closed the chapter in some way. At least until the same night when Freddie had been drugged and almost raped in a fucking cleaning room.

And the reason for that had been that Freddie felt like shit and couldn’t stand being in Roger’s (and John’s) depressive, unsexy company without having a mental breakdown. Logically, Roger knew that it wasn’t his fault that their sexlife had grinded to a halt. He’d told the others to keep at it. He wanted them to. God knows that he’d also be craving sex like crazy. If he hadn’t had the body of a terrified, virginal choir girl, that is.

Actually, he still craved it. Roger was used to have a lot of sex. He’d been used to it for the last ten years of his life. He bloody loved sex. The other night, he had dreamt that he’d been riding Freddie, Brian and John on either side of him, touching him and kissing him and talking just the right kind of dirty. And then suddenly, it hadn’t been his boyfriends doing those things to him anymore. He’d woken in panic and almost headbutted Brian in the face when the poor man tried to see what was wrong.

The thing was, about that night, that it wasn’t the physical part of it that had gotten to him the most. Roger had had a lot of sex. He’d also had some kisses he wasn’t really into. He’d been groped before. Not to that extent of course, but still. The dick in his mouth, that had been rough. It really had, but it was also just that, a dick in his mouth. 

No, what stayed with him was the other things. The names and the “compliments”, the laughter and mocking. The feeling of being trapped, having nowhere to go, nowhere to run. The helplessness. 

John had been the absolute worst part. Roger was quite sure he’d honestly rather have gone through several rounds of whatever the gang wanted to do to him, than having John there watching, in constant danger. 

He was uncomfortably aware of that he would have done anything, anything they asked, as long as they didn’t hurt John. He was pretty sure John knew it too. 

Anyway, he’d started to get better, using his partners as crutches to learn to walk again. Using them as guinea pigs when he tried to challenge himself to touch. At least it worked. 

But he’d been so focused, on himself, and on John, that he’d missed Brian and Freddie slipping through the cracks opening up in their relationship. He shouldn’t have missed that. He was the one who usually kept track of people slipping. But now, he’d just had too much in his head, blind to everything that wasn’t him or John. And he’d had to dearly pay for it.

In a way, the thing with Freddie had helped him. The shock had worked like a boot to the butt, effectively kicking him out of his misery, frustration and self-pity. It was always easier to act like a real person and not just a pathetic blob, when you had people who counted on you, who needed you. Because then, even if you didn’t have the energy to live for yourself, you at least had to do it for them.

Who the fuck cared if Roger would freak out if he saw a dick. It wasn’t even certain that he would. He’d just have to challenge himself, and get out of this on top, if he wanted his boyfriends to stay up.

Freddie hadn’t even cared about his almost rape. At first Roger thought that Freddie tried to play it cool (like himself), that he didn’t want them to make a fuss. That he’d break down once he’d gotten over the shock. But no. Freddie genuinely thought it wasn’t a big deal. That it was some kind of divine retribution or something, that had come for him because he’d been an ass. Which he hadn’t been, but Freddie tended to view himself a bit differently than the rest of them. Freddie was upset that he’d scared them, but that was about it. He didn’t remember that it’d happened anyway. And nothing had really happened either. And he deserved it. That was about all you could get out of him on the subject.

It was driving Roger, and Brian and John too, absolutely mad. 

Then there was Brian. Poor, kind, lovely Brian. Who’d almost killed a man. Brian who had stayed strong for them, who’d taken so good care of them, without at all bothering to take care of himself. Or more like, who didn’t have a chance to take care of himself, since his boyfriends were on him like hungry, desperate parasites at all times. They’d completely sucked Brian dry, and not in a sexy way. He was depressed and stressed out and chronically exhausted. 

Brian didn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept well before the thing with Freddie and now after… It was bad. He’d often not go to bed at all, the night being the only time he felt he could have a moment to himself. Besides, he didn’t seem to be able to sleep if he tried either, too wound up and scared, of what could have happened, of what had happened, and of himself. 

Five nights after Freddie’s attack, Roger had woken up in the middle of the night, courtesy of his own nightmares, and had found Brian missing from the bed. He’d gone looking for him and found him on the floor, in the corner of the living room, knees up against his chest as he cried alone in the darkness. That had been the last straw.

Roger hadn’t said anything, had just grabbed the blanket and joined Brian in his corner, but he’d decided then and there. That this had to get an end. They needed to talk.

When Roger lived with his parents, he’d sometimes watched a tv show with his mother. In the show couples who argued went to see a woman, who helped them solve their problems. It was honestly not really a show for Roger, and he’d mostly stayed for his mother, who survived by dreaming about a better life. In the show, the woman made the couple talk to each other, one at a time. The one who spoke held a “talking pillow” and was not to be interrupted until he or she decided to pass the pillow on.

It was ridiculous. Completely bonkers. But, actually, also quite brilliant in its simplicity. 

Roger went out the morning after he found Brian on the floor and bought a baby blue pillow with tassels on it and a huge bottle of whiskey. When he returned to the apartment, pillow under one arm and the bottle in hand, his boyfriends looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Which possibly might be the case. This was very out of character for him.

“Eh hello darling?” Freddie leant back against the kitchen counter, eyebrows raised. “We wondered where you’d disappeared to.”

Roger kicked off his shoes. “Just down the street to get this.”

“You have to tell us when you go out! God when you suddenly wasn’t here...” Brian had dark rings beneath his eyes and looked high strung with stress.

“Bri, I’m 26 years old. I don’t have to report everything I do to you.” Roger answered, trying hard to keep the aggravation out of his voice. “I know you’re worried but we can’t live our lives waiting for something bad to happen all the time. Christ sake, I was gone for ten minutes. There aren’t rapists waiting behind every corner.”

Brian crossed his arm, shooting a pointed glance to Freddie and then looking back at Roger. “No? Kind of seems like it, recently.”

“What’s up with the pillow?” John chose that moment to cut in, voice calm. “And the whiskey? I thought we were heading for the studio?”

“We are.”

“We’re not.”

Freddie and Roger answered simultaneously, leading to the singer looking even more confused. “We’re not?”

Roger took a deep breath, clutching the bottle to his chest. “We need to talk.”

The other three stared at him silently for a moment before John spoke up again. “Are you breaking up with us Rog?” The younger man joked, but there was real worry lurking behind the pretty green of his eyes.

“Yes.” Roger deadpanned. “Therefore I come bearing farewell gifts.” He snorted. “Of course not. But we need to talk.”

Brian looked exhausted, head hanging as he watched Roger wearily. “About what?”

“Everything that’s happened the last couple of weeks.” Roger answered, sounding more confident than what he felt. “All the shitty stuff.”

Silence again. Then Brian took a step forward, looking uncertain. “Right now?” He carefully put his hand on Roger’s shoulder, still worried that he’d make him uncomfortable. “It’s… Are you sure you can?” He looked around at his boyfriends, eyes soft.

“No.” Roger admitted, smiling sheepishly. “I have no bloody clue, but I want to try. Only if we’re all on the same page of course,” he nodded towards Freddie and John. “but personally I’ve had enough of this miserable skulking around. It’s sickening. We’re better than this.”

Freddie took a deep breath, looking determined. “I have wanted to talk since day one. So no complaints from me.”

“I’m in.” John agreed, but smiled wryly. “It’s going to be bloody rough though.”

Roger shook the bottle. “That’s why we have this baby.” He grinned. “Alright, everyone change into something comfortable and get in bed, we have long, painful hours in front of us.”

“Like a slumber party!” Freddie chuckled. “Except for the long, painful bit…” He took John by the hand and started dragging him towards the bedroom. “Best to go darling, Blondie seems to be in a real bossy mood today.”

Roger waited until the other two had disappeared into the bedroom before turning to Brian, who was still standing next to him, quiet. 

“Bri?” He said softly, moving to press his side gently against the taller man’s.

Brian sighed, moving his hand from Roger’s shoulder to rub at his eyes. “I’m sorry for getting worried for every little thing. Of course you can go out.” He chewed at his lip. “It’s just, I keep imagining you or John or Fred to get hurt, all the time. I can’t stop it.”

Roger’s heart ached. He hated to see Brian like this. So beaten down and hopeless. He put both of his items on the floor before reaching for Brian and pulling him into his arms. “I’m here. I’m safe. And so is Deaky and Fred.” He whispered into Brian’s ear, hands stroking up and down his boyfriend’s back. “You can relax.”

Brian let out the air in his lungs with a loud ‘whoosh’ and went boneless in Roger’s hold. Roger just kept hugging him close and nuzzling him until Brian pulled away, but not before pressing a kiss to Roger’s cheek.

“I know.” Brian smiled tiredly. “But it hasn’t really caught up to my subconscious yet.” He nodded towards the bottle of whiskey one the floor. “You really think you’re ready for this? We’ve all been trying to get you to talk the last couple of weeks and it’s been bloody difficult.”

Roger shrugged and patted Brian on the hip. “Yeah. I don’t like opening up. But,” he crouched down to grab his pillow and whiskey, “it’s ruining the relationship. And that’s more important than my pride.” 

“Right…” Brian didn’t look particularly convinced, eyeing him skeptically.

Irritation sparked within Roger. Here he was trying to be mature and help and Brian wouldn’t take him seriously. He took a steadying breath to not say anything unnecessary and headed towards the bedroom. “Come on.” He called to Brian over his shoulder and the older man sighed but followed him to the bedroom where Freddie and John were waiting for them.

“Are you alright?” John asked as soon as they stepped inside, sitting huddled together with Freddie on the bed. Both of him and Freddie had removed their jeans, and were just sitting in underwear and shirts. 

Roger nodded, threw his items on the bed and started removing his own pant. When he’d kicked them off and stood up straight again, he noticed all of his three boyfriends staring at him. “What?” He muttered, climbing on top of the bed.

“Nothing,” Brian quickly said and the other two nodded.

“You’re weird.” Roger shook his head, then patted the bed next to him. “Bri get up here.”

A few sighs and grunts later Brian was on the bed as well, also pantless.

Freddie and John had moved away from each other, and now all four of them were sitting in a circle, facing each other. Roger swallowed. He was suddenly nervous. Nervous that this wouldn’t work out and that he’d only make a fool of himself.

“Rog?” Brian said softly, putting a hand on his knee. 

Roger squeezed his hand briefly and steeled himself. He was going to do this and the others better fucking keep up.

“Right.” He started and lifted the pillow. “As all of us are quite aware, the last three weeks have been complete and utter shit. Like, I haven’t had such a shitty couple of weeks ever, and that’s taking my alcoholised dick of a father into consideration.” He took a deep breath and continued, ignoring the sad and upset faces of his boyfriends. “Basically, we’ve been fucking unlucky. Getting into stuff with real scumbags. And before you two,” he glared at John and Freddie, “start talking about how it’s your fault and it wouldn’t have happened if not for you blah blah, I just want to say that no. We were unlucky. Things went awry. We butted heads with the wrong crowd. That’s not on us. Not on any of us. And there’s nothing we could have done about it.”

John frowned. “Still, you wouldn’t have run out into the alley if I hadn’t been an asshole.”

“No. Maybe not. Maybe I’d gone out for a smoke ten minutes later instead, just because I wanted one. Maybe they had been there then. We’ll never know.” He turned to Freddie. “Maybe we shouldn’t have left Fred alone in that club. I shouldn’t have gotten angry and stormed off. There’s so many fucking things that could have gone different but they didn’t. And we can not look out for all possible consequences of our actions all the time. We have to dare to live.”

He was breathing hard, god, he hadn’t even prepared any speech, but now when he’d started, the words wouldn’t stop coming. All frustration and anger and confusion was brewing just under the surface, eager to come out. “However, the thing that these outer fuckups have in common, is that they all started with an inner problem. A fight, a misunderstanding. Something between _us_. And that is something that we can actually work on and try to change, in contrast to bad luck, awful people and a generally shitty world.”

“I think there is where we have to start. We have to get better at talking and sharing and listening. And yes you don’t have to roll your eyes at me, I know I’m probably the worst of us at doing just that. But I want to change. I don’t want things to be like this anymore. I want us to go back to be one unit, a sprawling one yes, but still _one_. Not four staggering lost losers who makes each other feel bad or exhausted.” He looked around at his boyfriends, eyes wide and honest. “I don’t want you to feel guilty for wanting to have sex. We’re boyfriends for fucks sake. And perverts, all of us.” He sighed. “Everything’s just upside down and twisted all around lately. Let’s try to twist it back.”

Brian shuffled closer to him and smiled that warm, small smile of his and that was all Roger needed to continue, ignoring the slight trembling of his body. “This pillow,” he held it up a bit. “Is a talking pillow. The one who holds the pillow talks. When that person is done, he can pass the pillow on to someone else who wants it.”

“Really darling?” Freddie’s eyes were slightly teary from Roger’s emotional speech but he still grinned teasingly. “That’s very cute and middle-age-womanly of you.”

John slapped him on the thigh. “Hush, Rog has the pillow.”

“I know it’s ridiculous.” Roger sighed, rubbing his head. “But just shut up and lets try alright? I think this is what we need to do, just open up and talk and figure out why we had all these awful arguments and misunderstandings in the first place. It will be hard to talk about, bloody hell I’m terrified. So whenever we want, we can have a swig of this cheap reward whiskey.”

John lifted a hand, looking at Roger intently. 

“That’s not really how this is supposed to work but okay. Yes Deaky?”

“I think this is good and I agree that this is probably the best thing we can do to really move past this, and learn from it, but I’m not sure what you want us to say?” He looked down in his lap, frowning. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I know baby,” Roger was surprised at how easy the old pet name came to him. “Therefore I’ll try to start us of. I’ll do my best to give you my perspective on that bloody terrible day. Why I acted the way I did. And then we’ll see where we can go from there.”

He took a deep breath. That was easier said than done. This would mean to throw all caution to the wind and lay his insecurities and feelings out bare in front of his boyfriends. He could as well roll over and show his stomach. But, a man had to do what a man had to do.

“I’ve always had… problems with my looks. People see me and like what they see and then often give fuck all about the rest of me and forgets I’m a person and not just something to look at. What happened at the interview, with the sneak photo, sucked. But it’s just how things often are. It upsets me and pisses me off, but I’m also quite used to it. Not long before this we had the thing with your asshole manager, right Fred? Those things happens now and then too. It’s something I’ve learnt to live with, at least mostly. I’m usually able to ignore it and instead focus on and listen to the people I trust. The ones who really knows me.” 

He played with the tassels of the pillow, clearing his voice before continuing. “That night you got pissed at me Deaky, for just letting the whole thing slide, for chosing to ignore it instead of doing something about it, like telling the guy off. The reason for that is that making a scene and complaining about it, usually doesn’t help. People don’t get it, how someone can get upset or hurt by getting called good-looking. It’s a compliment, right?” He huffed, shook his head. “If you start making noise about it, you’ll only look like an easily offended, ungrateful bitch. If I’d started ranting on that photographer it wouldn’t have done our image any favours.”

“Truthfully though,” he took a deep breath, lowering his eyes to the blanket in front of him, not wanting to meet the others encouraging, kind faces. “that’s not the main reason why I just let the guy do it and didn’t want to talk to Fred or Bri about it.” He felt his face heat up, his stomach twisting. “The truth is, I’m ashamed. Every time something like that happens, and you, or someone else see it or get to know about it, I get embarrassed. I feel so fucking exposed and vulnerable and helpless. And I hate that. It makes me very uncomfortable and I’d rather not deal with it at all. Or talk about it. And I don’t,” he managed to tear his gaze from the bed to meet John’s beggingly, “want it shoved in my face. Ever.” He looked down again, not strong enough to continue looking at John when the younger man looked heartbroken and guilty. “And then I guess I got kind of raped on top of it too. And that’s even more embarrassing.”

Brian choked out an angry noise. “It’s not embarrassing, god Rog..”

“Nuh uh,” Roger shook his head. “I’ve got the pillow. Shut it.” He cleared his voice again. “I think it’s embarrassing. I never thought that would happen. I’m good at fighting and don’t just take shit like that, but still… I couldn’t do a thing but to just… yeah.” He swallowed, throat thick. God, it felt like he was itching everywhere. “It made me feel weak and pathetic. And I honestly just want to forget about it and leave it in the gutter.”

Was this it? Was he done? God, he felt like he’d aged ten years in five minutes. But he’d done it. He’d talked about what he never wanted to talk about. He’d opened up to them. “So that’s me… It’s… well you know now. I guess you did before, at least you Bri, but now I’ve vomited my issues in your laps. Great huh? Fuck, I need a drink.” 

He could feel his boyfriends eyes piercing through him as he opened up the bottle and took three large swigs of whiskey. The alcohol burned in his throat and he felt strangely dizzy and light. He was almost shaking with the relief of having said what he needed to. 

Removing the bottle from his lips he brushed a stray drop from his lips and then screwed the lid back on. “Finally, before I pass on the pillow, I want to ask you something Fred.” The singer tilted his head to the side curiously. 

“You almost got raped too.” Roger said, voice quiet, and Freddie squirmed, looking uncomfortable. “And it seems like you don’t care about it, at all. How… just. I don’t understand. How can you value yourself so lowly? I value you more than anything, you three are the most important thing in my life. I want you to care about yourself.”

Now he’d really talked enough, he was teary and trembling and generally an emotional mess. So when Freddie sniffled loudly and held out a hand for the pillow, he passed it, and the bottle, on to his oldest boyfriend.

“I…” Freddie started, voice wobbly. “Fuck, this is going to break us all isn’t it?” He smiled. “I’m not sure where to start so I’ll just do what I always do and rampage myself through this like a bull in a china shop. First, Roger darling.” His dark brow eyes smoldered as he stared at Roger, who shifted awkwardly onto his knees. “It’s really not alright to just let people do or say whatever they want to you because you’re trying to save our image or because you get too upset to deal with it. It’s definitely not a compliment, and few things pisses me off more than disrespect. I say, in the future,” He looked around at his boyfriends, stance sure and confident. “Queen won’t allow official picture being taken, on _any_ of us, without explicit consent from the band. We’ll also promote the whole band being interviewed together, none of this only me and Brian bullshit.”

Roger liked the sound of that but didn’t really think it would be that easy. Brian and John also looked skeptical and Freddie grinned at them. “Yeah, I know, how can we make those kinds of demands? Lovelies, we’re getting far and fast. We’re getting big, and soon we will have that kind of power. I promise you,” he said, voice growing stronger. “I won’t let anyone degrade any of you again.” John’s answering smile was so warm Roger got flushed himself. He sighed, maybe it wasn’t be terrible to let his older boyfriends help and take care of him and John now and then.

“And continuing… The drug incident the other night.” Freddie frowned. “I do really not see it as a big deal. Compared to everything else that has been going on it feels unnecessary to waste energy on that. After all, nothing happened. A guy removed my pants, maybe groped me a bit. I can’t even remember it. Worse things, things that have made me feel more scared or uncomfortable, have happened before. I’ve not always been very good at looking after myself,” Brian snorted and Freddie glared at him, “and had quite a lot of bad sex before I got together with you.” He shook his head, smiling at their pale, horrified faces. “Nah, I was never forced, not by anyone who wasn’t myself, but it was still bad. Painful. Scary.” 

Roger’s heart hurt, he ached to reach out for Freddie when he shrugged, smiling tiredly. “And still I’m such a slut for sex. It’s ridiculous. I can’t seem to help it. Even now, no, even the day after your attack in the alley, I was thinking about it and missing it.” He frowned, pulling his legs up to sit cross legged, pillow in his lap. “It’s not even that I’m horny, or of course that’s most often the case, but sometimes I just want it for security, or for feeling like I belong. I don’t know, I’m messed up. Sex, at least good sex with you, is like my safe space. Where I can just let go and feel and get over things.” He sighed deeply. 

“Of course I can’t go around pressuring you into things because of that, and I’m sorry for messing things up so epically on our nice cosy night out. If you don’t want to have sex I’ll accept that. There’s other ways to work things through, like this that we’re doing now.” He threw the pillow only to catch it again. “Actually, I’m so proud of us. That we’re doing this. It’s not easy going through things like these, and there are four of us.” He looked almost shy as he placed the pillow back in his lap. “I never imagined I’d have people like you in my life, people I love so much and who love and support me like you do. Who put up with me, always. I love you all so much, I can’t put it into words…” A tear ran down his cheek, and he laughed brokenly and handed the pillow to John. “Your turn.”

They were all a bit teary and sniffly and John hugged Freddie tightly before receiving the pillow from him.

“I love you so much too. I never thought this would actually become reality when I suggested sleeping together last summer. God, it feels like it’s been ages but it’s only been just over a year. Crazy…” John mumbled, almost to himself. “If it’s alright, I’d like to take a drink at once, I’m already a wreck after your turns.” He chuckled and took a long drink from the bottle. John passed the bottle over to Freddie, who made grabby hands, when he was done, and Roger’s eyes automatically focused on the tip of his pink tongue sneaking out to lick his lips.

“I think I’m the one who’s been talking the most this far. I’ve been whining to all of you.” He muttered, cheeks rosy. “And what Rog said about it not being our fault is true, I know that logically. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop blaming myself. If not for what happened in the alley, then at least for what I did and said before that. I’ve told you all many times, but since this is our official talk, I want to say it again. I’m sorry.” Green eyes were heavy with guilt and sadness as he looked at first Roger, and then at the other two. “To all of you. We’re supposed to be a team. And I got blinded by my own greed and anger.”

He shuffled back a bit to lean up against the headboard. “Sometimes it feels like I have a split personality. Usually, I don’t care at all about getting attention, and do prefer to stay in the background. That’s how I feel most days, especially when I know that I’m still appreciated.” He sighed, brushing some hair out of his face. “But then some days I feel so insecure, and I want all that attention, I want to be seen, admired and desired, even if I know that I wouldn’t be comfortable with that sort of attention, if I got it. It’s… confusing. Sometimes it’s just silly things, like that I feel like I’m not as handsome as you, which I never think, but sometimes it bothers me. Recently it’s been deeper stuff though, it’s been about the band, the music and my part in it. In the beginning, when I auditioned, I didn’t think it would become serious. I just thought it would be nice to get to play some music while I studied, and then I fell in love with all of you, in all senses of that word.”

“Now we’re here. Music is what we do, it’s our income. And it’s more important to me now. I want to feel like I’m important to the band and that I matter.” Freddie and Brian both opened their mouths and John hushed them. “No, I know. I know that you think so. And that people who get music, as you put it earlier Rog, think so too. I’ll try to get better at ignoring what other ignorant bastards think, like you do. I wish I could have your confidence and courage.” He smiled bitterly. “Next time I feel like unappreciated shit I’ll try to talk to you instead of lashing out and acting like an immature kid. Or I’ll just shut myself in the bathroom until I’ve gotten over it so you won’t have to deal with my stupid ass.” He threw the pillow at Brian before taking the whiskey bottle back from Freddie and gulping down more.

Brian frowned at the younger man. “We don’t want you to hide yourself away when you feel bad love, we want you to talk to us about it. Actually,” he looked around at them. “Ground rule; if someone feels bad, we talk about it. It doesn’t have to be a full on talk session like this, but we at least talk to someone. Alright?” Everyone nodded nervously, not arguing with Brian’s thunderous expression or sharp tone. 

“Before I go on with my… things, I’ve been wondering something Deaky.” John looked up, now looking even more nervous. Brian studied him closely. “While you do sometimes lash out at me and Fred, it’s usually Roger you go for when you’re in a mood. Why?”

John winced and Freddie looked uncomfortable. Roger frowned at Brian, that wasn’t really necessary, was it? To put John on the spot like that… Besides, was it even true? Roger thought back to the times John had acted like a dick, and came to the conclusion that yeah, it usually was aimed at him. Curious now, and a bit worried, he looked over at John who’d leant forward to accept the pillow back from Brian.

“Um yes…” John scratched his head. “I guess I do tend to act the worst towards you Rog. It’s not… I don’t _mean_ to.” He frowned. “I think it’s just that… you’re the easiest.”

Roger tilted his head to the side, confused. “Huh?” 

“Like, you’re the toughest.” John tried to explain, gesturing awkwardly. “When I get mad I get mean, real bitchy, and both Brian and Freddie are so sensitive. I hardly dare to say mean things to them, they’d just start crying. You just call me a bitch and start fighting with me, which is what I want, and you usually don’t take offense at what I say.” He grimaced. “But then recently I’ve gone too far, and I have poked at the wrong bruises and managed to hurt you with it. I’m very sorry about that.”

Roger stared at him dumbly. He’d never even thought about this. He picked fights with all of his boys, all the time. On the other hand, he rarely was as mean as John. The youngest man had a talent for nailing you where it really hurt.

John smiled at him carefully. “I won’t do it anymore though. Well, I’ll get mad and act like a bitch, but I’ll try to be equally dickish to all of you.” He threw the pillow back to Brian who also looked a bit lost.

“Eh right.” Brian muttered, cradling the pillow to his chest. “Equal dick is good. I guess me and Fred will just have to toughen up and fight with you more.”

“I’m tough!”

The guitarist ignored Freddie’s indignant outburst and plucked at the tassels gently. “I have trouble sleeping.” Brian started quietly. “It’s really hard for me to relax so I lie up most of the night, unable to find any peace. When I do sleep I dream, all the time, I go back to the first night, and the second. I see it again and again. And sometimes my brain puts a twist on it, makes it worse than it was. I round the corner with Freddie and find John dead in a pool of his blood and Roger’s missing. I kick down the door to that room and Freddie’s already violated and bloody. It’s dark and I beat someone, kick and punch them and then the light comes on and I’ve strangled a man. Sometimes that man is the one I almost killed, sometimes it’s one of you three. Sometimes it’s all of you.”

The hopeless emptiness of Brian’s voice send cold shivers down Roger’s spine, and he discreetly moved a bit closer to the taller man, putting a hand on his leg.

“I’ve always hated violence, I’ve almost never needed to resort to it. And now, I’ve just been losing myself. I’ve been so stressed and terrified and angry, that my brain can’t handle it, and my body takes over without me really following. It’s… horrid.” His voice was only a whisper now, and he grabbed onto Roger’s hand tightly.

“I’m always tired. And I’m worried. I’ve always been worried, I overthink things and go for the worst case scenario most of the times. And now after this, it’s worse than ever. I’m so anxious I can’t relax if I can’t see you. It doesn’t matter if I know that you’re on the toilet, I’ll still be stressed until you come back. It’s hopeless, because I really need to be on my own. I’m an introvert and it’s really taxing for me to be the mother hen all the time. I’m so tired of being the responsible, dependable one. Because I’m really not.”

He sighed deeply. “I’m the only one who haven’t been in any way assaulted, the last weeks. I should be happy and feel lucky. But I’m not and I don’t. And while it feels like you’re all going in the right direction, especially lately, I’m still stuck in this bloody purgatory. I keep thinking, if it went so completely wrong one time, and then two times, why wouldn’t there be a third time, that might end up being worse?” He shivered. “That’s what I’m like these days. Also, I miss you. I miss how it used to be, and all the casual affection and irritation. Even if I don’t handle things through sex like you Fred, I still miss it, so much. I miss being taken cared of.” He snorted. “Pathetic. I know. But that’s me. Pillow anyone?”

Roger shook his head and crawled even closer, pulling Brian into his arms again. “We’re going to take care of you love. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time. Not anymore.”

Brian hugged him back, hiding his face in his neck.

“That was… something.” John sighed. “Good to know we’re all ruined. But I think this was helpful. I feel much better even if I’m ashamed and it feels like I’ve been run over by a truck. Thank you Rog, good call.”

Freddie went over to sit right in front of Brian and Roger and gently took the pillow from the sniffling guitarist, who’d now untangled himself from Roger to wipe his eyes. “Yes dear, as usual we wouldn’t get anywhere without your life skills. Still,” he teased, holding up the pillow. “This is very cute. Did you pick it because it matches your eyes?” His eyes glittered as he leant closer to Roger, looking amused.

“Shut it Mercury,” Roger easily bantered back, swatted him on the nose and then leant in to give him a light kiss on the lips. 

It wasn’t before he pulled back again, and saw Freddie’s shocked expression, that he realized what he’d done. 

“Fuck,” he croaked, lips stretching into a huge smile. “I did it!”

Freddie touched his lips, adorably flushed. Brian had stopped sniffling and looked over at them, confused. “Did what?”

“Rog kissed Freddie!” John had also moved up to them, looking as happy as Roger felt. “Just like that!”

Brian’s weary face brightened up, and he looked the closest to excited Roger had seen him in ages. “Really?”

John laughed and cuddled up to Brian, running his hands through his curly hair gently. “Really.”

Roger was so proud of himself. He’d kissed his boyfriend, completely naturally, and he hadn’t freaked at all. The kisses that he’d been forced into that night were still fresh in his mind, but when it all came down to it, there were no parallels between him kissing his beloved boyfriends and a gangster shoving his tongue down his throat. 

Almost trembling with excitement, Roger cupped Freddie’s cheek and moved even closer. “Can I try again?”

Freddie nodded breathlessly and Roger could feel Brian’s and John’s eyes boring into them as he gently pressed their lips together a second time.

It was different now when he thought about it, and he was almost distressingly aware of everywhere he and Freddie were touching, their lips, his hands on Freddie’s face, Freddie’s breaths against his skin. It was a lot, and he couldn’t help but to tense up, expecting rough hands in his hair any second. But that didn’t happen.

“Take your time darling,” Freddie whispered against his lips and Roger hummed gratefully. He relaxed again, barely moving his lips over Freddie’s and just basking in the closeness and intimacy of it. There was no stress, no pressure. Just familiarity and warmth. God how he’d missed this. He wanted more.

Moving one hand up to stroke through his boyfriend’s dark, beautiful hair, Roger deepened the kiss slightly. He slowly coaxed Freddie’s lips open and just barely slipped his tongue inside. Freddie moaned softly and his hand shifted restlessly over the sheets, wanting to touch but still not daring to. Roger chuckled and lifted his boyfriend’s hand, putting it on his cheek.

They continued kissing softly for a minute, Freddie stroking Roger’s face while Roger played with the singer’s hair. He’d missed this so much. He’d missed Freddie so much. And he missed John and Brian too.

He finally let Freddie go, but not before sucking his plump bottom lip into his mouth and giving it a cheeky bite.

“Oh dear,” Freddie looked a peculiar mix between sentimental and ecstatic when they pulled apart, cheeks pink and breathing deeply, “it’s like you were never gone.”

Roger bopped him on the nose, grinning. “I wasn’t.”

John and Brian had also been kissing and looked similarly breathless and excited. “Rog…” John said, voice rough with emotion. “Are you… is this alright?”

Nodding, Roger crawled forward to sit in front of John instead, stroking rough fingers over his jaw. John’s lids fluttered shut at the caress and Roger was almost giddy with excitement. 

Behind him Freddie pulled Brian in for a passionate kiss, the guitarist groaning when Freddie tugged on his hair just the way he liked it.

Need and longing churning in his stomach, Roger tilted John’s face up to kiss him as well. He was a bit more forward now, hunting the ghosts from mind and body with every touch and sound from his boyfriends. He lazily thrust his tongue into the younger man’s mouth and John sighed, his hand coming up to hold Roger’s, which was still on his jaw.

The slick sounds and groans coming from behind coupled with John’s warm, wet mouth and hot body pressed to his, were overwhelming. Roger was hardening in his underwear and pushed harder against John. He was unable to stop his own noises, small, high pitched gasps, when John pushed back and thrust his tongue into Roger’s mouth.

It could have made him uncomfortable, things getting a bit rougher, his boyfriend taking what he wanted, but it didn’t. Roger was safe and horny and in love. 

Freddie let out a long, loud moan and John and Roger separated. They rested their foreheads against each other, both taking deep, shaky breaths to try to calm down.

“Did you plan for this to happen?” John smiled, thumb tracing patterns into the back of Roger’s hand.

Roger snickered. “Nah. Just the talking thing. But I’m not complaining.”

“Neither are we,” Freddie groaned, tilting his head back as Brian sucked marks into his neck. “But, I think ah god…” He closed his eyes and by god he was so beautiful Roger just couldn’t look away. “that we need to stop, or I’ll want to go further and very soon.” Freddie panted. “I’m sorry but I just need it so badly.”

Roger pulled away from John, chest warm as he took in his three desperately needy boys. Well, it wasn’t like he was much better himself. “Let’s not stop.” He said, licking his lips. “I’m not sure of how much I want to do, maybe not too much, but I want to be here. I want to be with you, and see and hear you.”

Brian managed to look worried, even with his messy hair, swollen lips and tented boxers. “What if you start feeling bad? We don’t want to pressure you.”

“You won’t.” Roger was confident in this, and opened his arms, smiling at Brian. “Come here you silly, overthinking nerd.” 

Freddie and John laughed and Brian looked a tiny bit affronted, but he still smiled brighter than in weeks, and crawled over to Roger. “Rude…”

Freddie climbed into John’s lap next to them and Roger grinned and reached for Brian, fisting one hand in his already unruly curls to pull him close. “You love me.” He winked, placing first a small kiss on Brian’s nose and then one on his chin.

“God help me but I do,” Brian chuckled lowly, eyes glinting as he wrapped both arms around Roger’s waist and kissed him. 

Roger had seldom been more proud of himself ever. He’d opened up, they all had. It had been hard and emotional and embarrassing. But it had been worth it. They were on their way back to become who they’d used to be. 

He was safe in Brian’s arms, tangling his fingers in his hair, tasting him and smelling him and feeling him. Feeling and hearing Freddie and John right next to them. They’d all been starved of this, for so long. And they needed it badly.

Roger knew that things wouldn’t be easy. He wasn’t naive enough to think that he’d be alright with all kinds of things right of the bat. Imagining having a cock in his mouth still made him feel queasy, and the thought of getting ganged up on or getting pressed against a wall scared him. But he was sure that would change sooner or later.

For now he was happy with this, kissing Brian and hearing his other boyfriends close. Or… he was mostly happy. His erection was really starting to ache, and he desperately needed contact. Brian seemed to be in the same boat, grunting against Roger’s lips, hands clenched tightly in his shirt.

Roger climbed into Brian’s lap, straddling him, and rested his face against his neck, panting against the sensitive skin. John was on his knees in front of Freddie, mouth on his cock and a hand on his own. Roger’s heart beat quicker and he couldn’t help grinding a bit against Brian’s thigh. 

“Fuck…” He breathed, Brian moaning and rocking up against him. “Let me..” He reached down to slip his hand into Brian’s underwear, grasping his hard cock in hand. The feel of Brian in his hand was familiar and hot and his boyfriend let out the most delicious whine when he rubbed at the head.

“That’s right baby,” he rasped, kissing the skin just below Brian’s ear. “You’ve been so good to us, so so good. Now relax and let me take care of you.” He stroked Brian firmly and grinded harder against him, searching friction for his own need. “We’re going to look after you now Bri, we’re going to make you feel so good. Let go lovely.”

Brian whimpered, hands desperately moving over Roger’s back, rucking up his shirt only to pull it back down. “Oh god, Roger…”

“So beautiful for us Bri,” came John’s throaty voice. He was nuzzling Freddie’s thigh, looking up at them with dark eyes while Freddie stroked his hair. “One of these days I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be able to sleep babe, I promise.”

Brian and Freddie moaned at that and Roger bit down hard on Brian’s neck, fingers pressing and rubbing harder over warm, swollen flesh. Brian was already wet with precome. John took Freddie back in fluidly and Roger’s dick twitched in his underwear. 

“Please,” Brian tilted his face back up and Roger met his wet, desperate eyes, pumping him faster. “Ah fuck,” Brian breathed out, arching up into his touch. “Please let me, let me touch you too?”

Roger thought over that tempting offer for about 1,5 seconds before he nodded eagerly, moving his hips back slightly to give Brian room to reach. The older man smiled and rubbed at him through his underwear and Roger almost swallowed his tongue, hips bucking up.

He’d have been embarrassed, if he’d had that kind of brain power. Instead he just whimpered into Brian’s mouth when they met in another sloppy kiss, and thrust shakily into his hand, doing his best to keep stroking Brian.

It all went so fast, it felt like he was burning with it, all of it, all frustration and longing and loneliness culminating into a huge crashing wave, taking over him, taking over them all, and bringing them together, tumbling down. Freddie let out a shout as he came in John’s throat and then Brian pulled away from his lips, gasping desperately as he came in Roger’s hand, trembling all over. Roger held on for about 10 seconds longer, clutching onto Brian hard and shoving his face into his neck again as he followed his two older boyfriends and let go.

They all came down from their orgasms, shaky and exhausted, while John spoke hushed, loving words to them. Roger stayed in Brian’s lap, running his fingers in lazy circles over his back as he watched Freddie stroke John to a quick and powerful climax, the bassist groaning loudly as he spilled in his underwear. 

Roger wished that he could have stayed there forever, but the cooling stickiness in his underwear wouldn’t let him. They all stripped and cleaned off quickly, and Roger pulled on a pair of pajamas pants while his tired and cosy boyfriends stayed half naked.

And so they ended up, at about lunch time in the middle of the workweek, lounging together in their huge bed. Brian soon fell asleep and Roger, Freddie and John all crowded around him, cuddling their exhausted boyfriend. They continued on the bottle of whiskey, talking and laughing together about Roger’s ugly pillow, about Freddie’s new hickeys and John’s future equal dickiness.

Roger was warm and sweaty. He’d go have a shower later when he could be bothered. For now, he was perfectly satisfied cuddling his loved ones, stroking Brian’s hair and being silly with Freddie and John. 

They’d just have to stand up again. After all this. And now they’d taken an important step. Roger wasn’t worried. His boyfriends were the strongest people he’d ever known. They all wanted to live. Whatever the world threw at them, whatever injustice or violence or crisis they would face, they would always get back up again. Stronger each time.

**Author's Note:**

> Truthfully, I hadn't really planned to write all these angsty, emotional things. I think that subconsciously, I needed it. Last year of my life was awful. I lost people I loved. I was sick. I was depressed and felt like shit, physically and emotionally. But I made it through, because of the people in my life that I love. We supported each other. And I grew. I'm better, stronger and wiser now then ever before. And my life is so much better. Without planning to, I've used my writing as an outlet. And I guess that is the point, my point, with these stories. It's in the two last sentences. You're so much stronger than you think. Keep on fighting and learn and grow. And make the people you've lost proud. Honour their memory. And be fucking proud of yourself.
> 
> Getting personal and emotional here, haha! Anyway, I'm blessed to have you, you mean so much to me, you really do. Take care my lovely, strong readers and see you again on the sunnier side of things!


End file.
